


Lies Where He Long'd

by SleepsWithCoyotes



Category: Shadow Hearts
Genre: Community: ironman7, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-28
Updated: 2016-02-28
Packaged: 2018-05-23 16:35:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6122666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SleepsWithCoyotes/pseuds/SleepsWithCoyotes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>We'll always have Domremy, baby.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lies Where He Long'd

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Ironman7 challenge [week 3 - prompt #1] The poem, which is also the source of the title, is Robert Louis Stevenson's "Requiem."

_they said our love would fade, but it gets stronger every day / they say that beauty fades, well, you're more beautiful than ever_

Coming through the woods to the edge of the village, the carcass of a deer slung over one shoulder and a lean white shape bounding smugly at his side, Yuri had a sudden moment of dislocation that nearly made him stop in his tracks. Here he was, the conquering hunter--and never mind what shape he'd worn when he'd made the kill--bringing dinner home to his woman. An unthinking grin tugged at his mouth. He felt suddenly like the rough savage Alice sometimes still called him, and the questioning yip of the wolf at his side did nothing to dispel the illusion.

"'And the hunter home from the hill,'" he muttered mostly to himself, frowning bewilderedly when that half-remembered line--poetry, he thought; he remembered Alice reading it to him but not the rest of the words--caused gooseflesh to ripple up his arms, made the fine hairs at the back of his neck rise.

Maybe he'd better ask Alice not to read him any more poetry.

"Come on, mutt," he said, and Blanca huffed something that could have been a laugh. Yuri didn't question it; he'd always known that wolves were smart, but Blanca was something else. In his other forms, Yuri could almost understand him.

Domremy wasn't exactly a hive of commerce or a social mecca. There were maybe a hundred souls all told who called the village home, and they asked few questions. Yuri figured that was because they already knew everything there was to know about each other's business, but that was unavoidable in a town this size. What mattered were the amiable smiles he got as he made his way through the meandering dirt streets, the knowing calls of "Good work, Blanca!" whenever anyone noticed the torn-out throat of the deer he was lugging home.

A sidelong glance found Blanca strutting ostentatiously at his side, white tail waving high. Yuri snorted quietly with a grin. They both knew who'd killed the beast...but they both also knew who'd herded the deer into Yuri's waiting claws. They made a good team, and carving up a few steaks at the end of the day to thank a reliable partner was no less than the wolf deserved.

When he saw the small crowd gathered outside his door-- _his_ door, and how was that for an orphaned vagabond like himself?--the formless fear he'd thought he'd beaten came rushing back. Had something happened? Where was Alice? Had she--

Someone in the crowd--a crowd of _children_ he noticed abruptly, the tight band easing across his chest--turned and lit up at the sight of them, waving. "Blanca! Yuri! Have you come to see Gepetto?"

"Uh...Gepetto?" Yuri asked, confusion taking the place of panic. "Did we trade houses while I was gone?"

"No, silly," Jeanne said, shaking her head pityingly. "He's visiting Alice--but he brought Cornelia!"

"And you're just waiting to ambush him when he comes out?" Yuri ventured a guess.

"How astute of you," Gepetto said as he opened the door, the old eyes behind his spectacles nearly folded up into the wrinkles made by his smile. He must have taken off his trademark green top hat out of courtesy, but he donned it again with a theatrical flourish. A pretty blonde puppet sat nestled in the crook of his other arm, and though she was big enough--almost real enough--to pass for a small child, the stooped old man carried her with ease.

"Gepetto! Gepetto!" the children clamored, jumping in their excitement, pleading faces upturned. "Can Cornelia play with us? Pleeeease?"

"Oh, all right," Gepetto pretended to grumble, though anyone could see he was pleased, as much for the way the request was phrased as for the request itself. "Alice?"

She stood just behind his shoulder, her sweet smile growing as she glanced past him and met Yuri's eyes. "Yes, Uncle?" she asked absently.

Gepetto coughed into his fist to hide a knowing grin. "Might I borrow your porch, my dear? Cornelia's admirers have spoken, and naturally she must oblige."

"Oh--of course," Alice replied instantly, tipping a sheepish look his way. "Ah...Yuri? Will you stay to watch?"

"I should take care of this first," he said, patting the side of the carcass still slung over his shoulder. He was strong--unnaturally strong--but it was starting to get heavy. Soon enough, it'd start to get smelly as well. "And clean up." No matter how many times Alice said she didn't mind, the idea of coming to her reeking of blood just didn't sit right. It reminded him too much of the monsters inside.

"Of course," she said again, and because she was Alice, she didn't look disappointed, only fondly understanding.

Blanca paused briefly to collect Jeanne's fur-ruffling praise, but when Yuri went around the back to butcher his kill, the wolf followed at once, licking his chops.

Though Yuri's claws were sharper--both the metal ones he wore as a human and those his other forms came by naturally--there was just something weird about using either to butcher something he meant to _eat._ Claws were for fighting, and he hadn't had to do too much of that lately. He was even starting to appreciate having the choice.

"Of course," he said out loud, drawing the wicked knife he kept in his boot, "if the Germans don't settle down soon, we're not going to have much time to hunt."

Blanca gave a fatalistic huff and then whined, looking at Yuri expectantly.

"Yeah, yeah. Pushy wolf."

Blanca sniffed. _Humans talk too much._

Yuri laughed and started cutting.

There was too much meat here for just him and Alice, but Yuri was used to sharing what he caught, and not just with the wolf. In return the villagers helped him out, showed him how to fix a leaky roof and caulk tile, little things he'd just...never picked up. Henri would want the hide, and whatever Blanca didn't eat would probably end up feeding someone's pigs. Whatever was left he'd burn.

When Yuri offered Blanca the heart, the wolf cocked his head to one side, panting a silent question. _Are you sure you don't want it? It's your kill, after all._

"No, really," Yuri said wryly, glancing down at the still-warm muscle, his blood-slicked hand. "Not in this shape, pal. Be my guest."

Blanca took him at his word, lifting the heart from his palm with a neat nip of sharp white teeth, sinking down to gnaw happily as Yuri looked away, mouth suddenly watering.

It was almost a relief to retreat inside and duck into the shower, to wash away the blood and distract the things inside him. Well, most of them: the ones that didn't start purring soundlessly as the water came pouring down over his head. At least Amon was mostly quiet, but even that worried him sometimes. Sometimes he could feel Amon stirring: not struggling, just watching. It was a little creepy, but so far that was all.

Amon was probably afraid Alice would kick his ass if he started anything, just like the way she'd taken out those masks.

He barely noticed the hiss of laughter that escaped him; it could have been his own.

The children were still sitting on the grass outside, beaming wide-eyed and enthralled as old Gepetto danced Cornelia through an intricate shadow-waltz, the stringless puppet's full skirts swaying gracefully as she followed her imaginary partner through the steps. Alice sat with them, legs curled demurely beneath her, watching with the same rapt fascination, though she looked a little sad all the same. She'd told Yuri once that Cornelia was the name of the daughter Gepetto had lost a long time ago. Yuri had filled in the blanks himself.

Slipping out to join them, he skirted the edge of Gepetto's performance and settled himself at Alice's side, hair still wet but clean, skin freshly scrubbed and smelling of nothing more offensive than soap. When Alice leaned contentedly against him, he circled her slender waist with his arm and felt a different sort of tightness pull across his chest, as if his smug and half-disbelieving pride and gratitude were too big to be contained. Some days he felt like strutting like Blanca just because she'd smiled at him, and the only thing that kept him from it was the certainty she'd laugh. Only that was all right too, so sometimes he did it anyway, just to watch her cover her mouth with both hands and giggle until he kissed her quiet.

He couldn't believe anyone had ever thought he'd get tired of Alice or walk out on her, that he might be--how had the rest of her family put it? Right, 'too inconstant.' Which was a fancy way of saying 'an idiot.' Gepetto had understood the first time he'd seen them together--and that was the reason they were here, in Domremy, and not in busy, fashionable Zurich--and Gepetto was only Alice's uncle by marriage.

Sometimes Yuri thought Gepetto got it because the old man had already lost someone who meant the whole world to him. Yuri had only come close, but 'close' was close enough, was _too_ close. In Gepetto he saw himself if he ever lost Alice: a tired, lonely guy who preferred the company of shadows to anything living that wasn't _her._

But Alice was still here, still his, and that wasn't _ever_ going to change.

That night, after the children had straggled home and old Gepetto had thanked them for supper and gone his own way, after Blanca had left with Jeanne and a backwards glance that told Yuri the wolf wouldn't wait up for him if he didn't happen to show up for guard duty that night, Yuri sat with Alice on the porch, staring up at the stars. She was warm in his arms, her soft sigh of contentment tugging a smile from him, and he rested his chin thoughtfully on top of her head for a moment before shifting.

"Hey," he said softly, offering a hangdog grin when she tipped her head up to look a question at him. "How did that thing you read me go again? The one about the hunter and the sailor. The creepy one."

"You thought it was creepy?" she asked, surprised. "It's supposed to be...happy, I suppose. Even if it is about death."

"Death, huh?" He _knew_ it.

As if she could hear what he was thinking, she smiled gently up at him and shook her head before leaning once more against his shoulder, closing her eyes to recite from memory.

 _"Under the wide and starry sky,"_ she said, _"Dig the grave and let me lie. Glad did I live and gladly die, And I laid me down with a will."_

He was sure she felt the shiver that ran through him just then, but the only sign she gave was the slide of her small, soft hand down his leg, fingers tightening on his thigh.

 _"This be the verse you grave for me:_ Here he lies where he long'd to be; _Home is the sailor, home from sea, And the hunter home from the hill."_

Yuri thought about that, rubbing his cheek against her hair, smelling flowers and rain, all of him quiet inside and out. Even deep inside where only the monsters had kept him company, at least until _she_ came along. It was funny; the first part of the poem he understood--that part he got entirely. As for the second half, only one thing really stood out.

_Here he lies where he long'd to be._

Now that part...that part he thought he could get a handle on.

"Yeah," he said. "Okay."

"Better?" she asked, knowing him too well.

"Perfect," he said, holding her close, and not giving a damn for who might be watching.


End file.
